


The Nightmare In The Dream

by flawedamythyst



Series: The Truth In The Lie [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-10
Updated: 2012-03-10
Packaged: 2017-11-01 17:40:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/359528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flawedamythyst/pseuds/flawedamythyst
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Timestamp set during Season 4</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Nightmare In The Dream

“We might never have had this,” muttered Dean against Sam's lips and then suddenly fell to his knees, pulling hard at Sam's jeans. The wood of the cabin was rough against Sam's back and the stars unnaturally bright overhead, bright enough to send shadows skittering across the grass.

Dean's mouth was amazing on Sam's cock, heat and suction and friction that Sam could barely believe, but only part of him was paying attention. The other part was watching the shadows move, noticing the way they were reaching out towards him and Dean, long tree-like fingers creeping closer and closer.

“Dean,” he said, fingers clasping at his brother's hair. “Dean, it's...”

Dean did something with his tongue, something incredible that shouldn't have been humanly possible, and Sam shut his eyes against the sensation, his warning turning into a gasp of pleasure instead.

When he opened them again, something was watching them. Something tall and dark, half-hidden in the shadow of the nearest tree, which refused to come into focus no matter how much Sam stared at it.

“Dean,” he said again, trying to pull Dean off his cock, but Dean resisted, clutching harder at Sam's hips.

The shadow shifted, just enough for Sam to see bright eyes, and he immediately thought of the monsters they'd killed in this camp, the shapeshifters who fed on grief. Were they waiting for him to be so distracted by his brother sucking him off that they could just dart in and kill him without Sam being able to stop them? They'd been gunning for him before, but he had first hand experience now of just how deep and all-consuming his grief for Dean was. Maybe they'd felt it from wherever they'd been while Dean was gone, and now that he was back they still wanted it, and were prepared to kill for it.

Dean hummed around Sam's cock, eyes shut with pleasure, and Sam tugged at his hair again. “Dean,” he gasped. “Stop, Dean, there's something out there.”

Dean didn't even seem to hear him.

“Too late, Sammy,” hissed a voice from the shadow beneath the tree. “He's caught now.”

“Who are you?” asked Sam. The shadow didn't reply.

Dean was really going for it now, his throat closing around Sam's cock in a way that hadn't happened the first time they'd done this, his hands pulling Sam's hips to pump in and out of his mouth in a steady rhythm that Sam couldn't resist, even knowing that the shadow was watching.

He felt oddly disassociated as he came, half of him lost in the rush of orgasm while the other half kept watching the shadow. Dean pulled back at the last moment, screwing his eyes shut as Sam came all over his face, but when Sam glanced down, it wasn't come on Dean's face at all. It was blood. Dark, rich, almost black blood.

“You've tainted him now,” said the voice again, and suddenly it seemed horribly familiar. “No going back, Sammy. You've ruined him.” The shadow stepped forward, into the light cast by the stars to reveal that it was Sam himself, eyes burning yellow and a triumphant smirk on his face.

“No,” whispered Sam, looking back at Dean and falling to his knees.

“I love you, Sammy,” said Dean in a dreamy, half-dazed voice, as if he was drugged.

“No!” said Sam again, trying vainly to wipe the blood off Dean's face. “No! Dean, come on, man, snap out of it!”

No matter how hard he tried to wipe it away, the blood just kept coming back, smearing across Dean's face everywhere Sam touched him, seeping into his skin.

“No!” he said desperately, and then woke up with a gasp.

The motel room was dark, but a faint light was radiating from the window in the bathroom. Sam lay still for a moment, heart pounding and his breath coming fast.

Dean was wrapped around him, their arms and legs thoroughly entangled and his head resting against Sam's shoulder. He shifted slightly, one hand pulling loose enough to stroke over Sam's skin.

“Sammy?” he asked. “You okay?” He sounded more than half asleep still and the drowsy edge to his voice made it sound like it had in the dream.

Sam took a deep breath, forcing it out slowly. “Fine,” he said. “Just a nightmare. Go back to sleep.”

Dean made a vague, grumpy noise that was presumably aimed at the idea of nightmares, then relaxed again, falling asleep as easily as if he'd never woken up.

Sam lay awake for a long time, staring up at the ceiling and telling himself firmly that he'd done nothing to Dean, that there was nothing dark or evil about this. What he was doing with Ruby was completely separate, and there was no way it could touch Dean. He was the reason Sam was doing it, anyway – it was necessary, and nothing his subconscious threw at him was going to change that.


End file.
